In vain your bangles castCharmed circles at my feet; I am Abiku, calling for the firstAnd the repeated time.Must I weep for goats and cowriesFor palm oil and the sprinkled ash? Yams do not sprout in amuletsTo earth Abiku's limbs.So when the snail is burnt in his shellWhet the heated fragments, brand meDeeply on the breast. You must know himWhen Abiku calls again.I am the squirrel teeth, crackedThe riddle of the palm. RememberThis, and dig me deeper still intoThe god's swollen foot.Once and the repeated time, agelessThough I puke. And when you pourLibations, each finger points me nearThe way I came, whereThe ground is wet with mourningWhite dew suckles flesh-birdsEvening befriends the spider, trappingFlies in wind-froth; Night, and Abiku sucks the oilFrom lamps. Mother! I'll be theSupplicant snake coiled on the doorstepYours the killing cry.The ripes fruit was saddest; Where I crept, the warmth was cloying.In the silence of webs, Abiku moans, shapingMounds from the yolk.
